


Liberation Day

by KingSteve



Category: Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 06:31:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingSteve/pseuds/KingSteve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Judgement Day was when the war started, Liberation Day marks it's end. What will John and Cameron do with no more Skynet to fight?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**  
Los Angeles, August 29** **th** **2032**

"Keep going, they're almost finished!" John Connor yelled over the din of plasma fire and explosions as he fired a series of bursts from his own plasma rifle and drilled the chromed head of yet another Terminator. It dropped to the floor as if its legs had disappeared from under it and lay twitching on the ground. After two gruelling decades of war against Skynet, the tide had finally turned in humanity's favour. Thanks to John's leadership, TechCom had brought humanity from the brink of annihilation and they were now on the verge of victory. Under John, the TechCom resistance had found and wiped out all of Skynet's factories, power installations, and processing cores. Skynet's complex in LA was the last stronghold the AI had left and was desperately defending itself now with everything it had. John took aim again and whistled as he drilled the skull of a T850. "One more down, hundreds to go," he muttered as he took aim through the rifle scope and searched for more metal to kill.

"Approximately two hundred and thirty eight enemy Terminators are engaging your forces, plus fourteen aerial and eleven ground based Hunter Killers," a familiar voice behind him replied to his comment. The only one who had the advanced hearing to tell what he'd said. John turned and raised his eyebrow at Cameron.

"You know I hate it when you do that, Cam," John answered with look of mock indignation on his face.

"Yes, I know, John. Why else do you think I do it?" She gave him her sweetest smile, and he nearly melted right there and then looking at her. Unlike twenty five years ago, when Cameron had first come to him, he knew now that her smile was warm and genuine and only for him, not the simple mimicry displayed by the other Terminators.

He was brought back to reality by the roaring of an aerial HK soaring above and opening up on a platoon approaching the Skynet complex, piercing their positions – and bodies- with devastating laser fire. More HK aircraft approached to attack the TechCom forces. Rocket trails plumed upwards from fire teams scattered around the battlefield and shattered the relatively light armour of the aerial killing machines. Rocket crews on the ground were all experienced in shooting down these metal birds or prey and knew where their weak spots were. The ground based HKs, however, were built much tougher than their airborne counterparts and held up to the plasma and rocket fire, pinning the soldiers down while more HKs were called for support, and the Terminators closed in on their positions for the kill.

"Baum, scramble the jets, 7th company are pinned down eight hundred metres from Skynet's north wall."

 _"Roger, Connor_ , _on their way,_ " came the reply of John's uncle, also one of his top field commanders. Within a minute four Harrier jump jets were blazing across the sky towards the HKs. The Harriers had been found in an abandoned hangar on a foraging mission in Nevada, whilst searching for supplies and heavy weapons. It had been Cameron who had

suggested restoring them for use against the HKs. Skynet had all but owned the surface and had total air superiority after annihilating the air forces of the world on Judgement Day. She had reasoned to John that having any kind of air power would greatly improve the odds of this battle. John had two main concerns with Cameron's idea: Firstly, that although there were a few former pilots in the resistance, none of them had flown in over twenty years, not to mention Cameron had noted there was only enough fuel and weaponry for them to last a single engagement; and secondly, Derek (who now went by the surname of Baum) had agreed with her, which in itself was cause for concern. It was the first time they'd agreed on anything, ever. He trusted Cameron, more than anyone else he knew, so he had given the green light to use them.

Any doubts he'd initially felt evaporated as he watched the four jets streak across the night sky and unleash their missiles on the aerial HKs, blasting them out of the air with ease. The old HKs used by Skynet shortly after Judgement day had eradicated most human fighter planes within days, their AI's were much superior to any human pilot. These newer HK's however, had been designed for hunting down humans on the ground. Having been built in a time when there was no air power to contend with, their air combat capabilities were minimal, and were easy prey for the Harriers.

John and Cameron ran down the hillside with a squad of friendly T800s and an infantry platoon towards the massive Skynet Bunker complex, and being pushed back when a trio of TXs emerged from an exit and launched a salvo of plasma blasts at John and his team. Cameron instantly pushed John down and covered his body with hers as a flurry of plasma shot inches above her head.

"Thanks, Cam," John said sheepishly as he realised he was staring into her big chocolate eyes (as she was into his), and their lips were mere centimetres apart. "But I think we should save that for later."

She simply smiled in reply before her face turned back to its usual blank stare as she aimed her plasma rifle at the centre TX and fired a series of rapid blasts. She'd known about the TX's, and had warned John before this attack about the high probability of encountering the advanced models for the first time in Skynet's last stand. He'd hung on to every word she'd told him about them, and felt he was prepared. The other soldiers weren't so lucky. They didn't trust Cameron, to them she was another machine, and had dismissed her reports on the TX model. It cost them dearly now as half of the platoon escorting John was cut down.

Cameron half dragged, half carried John backwards, away from the TXs' line of sight, and ordered the T800s to engage them. Nine Terminators advanced towards their more powerful enemies, severely outgunned despite outnumbering them three to one.

"What odds do you give them?" John asked Cameron as she set him down.

"Less than ten percent chance of defeating the TX on a three to one basis. I calculate that at least twelve T800s would be necessary to defeat one TX, and would still face eighty four percent casualty rates. They will be terminated." Cameron showed no signs of regret that she had sent several of her kin to be slaughtered. No, John corrected himself, not her kin. They were nothing alike. Cameron could feel, had free will. She was alive. John called another air strike on the TXs' position, and a Harrier launched a missile down towards the ground, exploding in a brilliant blue-white flash that vaporised everything within fifty metres of impact, like a miniature nuke. When the smoke cleared, there was no trace of either the TXs or the resistance Terminators.

"Another of your little inventions, Cam?"

"Plasma bomb, do you like it?" John nodded as he got up, he felt the thigh of his trouser leg singed from a near miss by one of those TXs. He frantically checked one of his pockets, stuck his hand inside to check it was still there. He sighed with relief when he felt it in his pocket. It was important. What "it" was, Cameron had no idea. The night before, John had been very secretive about something, and she was unable to tell what. He was keeping something from her, and she guessed that whatever was in his pocket was involved. Although her emotions were as real as any humans, she was better able to keep hers in check, and consciously sent a command to suppress her curiosity and allow more processing space for her combat subroutines.

After another series of air strikes, a massive hole had been punched in the outer wall of the Skynet complex. Cameron led the way inside, having detailed files on the place and having been "born" here, she knew where to go. She was closely followed by John, the rest of the platoon, and another squad of Terminators. Cameron led the group down several flights of stairs and into a sub basement, engaging in a number of skirmishes with Terminators protecting Skynet, many of which were older models; rubber skinned T600s, and even older, blocky, barely humanoid combat models.  _Skynet must be desperate,_ John thought,  _to use obsolete models like these._  They even encountered an old T1 model patrolling the sterile, stainless steel winding insides of the complex. Old and obsolete, but still deadly, its chain guns tore apart two more of John's men before Cameron leapt onto its back and tore its head off, then pummelled the machine with her coltan fists until it was scrap.

John split his team up to engage the forces inside. He and Cameron approached the system core, Skynet's brain. There it was, in front of him. John saw his nemesis, the thing that had very nearly wiped humanity from the face of the earth; the thing that had chased him and his mother throughout time. He was not impressed. Skynet's system core was an eight foot black metal pyramid with sensors and screens surrounding it. Reinforced cables ran from the pyramid under the ground and into other installations within the bunker, allowing Skynet communication with the rest of the complex. John noticed a single sensor focussing on him, and a number of red lights blinking frantically. John guessed Skynet was panicking. It knew who he was, why he was here, and it knew that reinforcements would not arrive in time to save it. There was a circular panel behind a clear glass screen to the right of the system core. A T888 was stood alone on the panel, naked. John and Cameron both recognised the device; the time displacement machine. Skynet was planning to send another Terminator back in time to preserve itself.  _Not a chance,_  John thought, and fired a long burst from his plasma rifle, shredding both the time machine and the Terminator inside. That was it, now there would be no more tampering with the past. This war, that had spanned space and time, would finally end here.

Cameron raised her rifle to fire on the system core, when John stopped her.

"John, we must destroy Skynet now."

"I know," he replied. "I want us to kill Skynet together."  _Aww, how romantic,_  he joked inwardly. Other couples went out on dates together; they'd have to settle for killing a supercomputer instead. "You have to appreciate the irony behind this."

Cameron stared at him, not quite understanding what he meant.

"I mean, Skynet created you to kill me, to prevent this from happening to it. And look now, Skynet's pride and joy is now its executioner. I really hope Skynet understands irony."

"Oh. Thank you for explaining," Cameron replied, raising her rifle again. Skynet had nearly forced her once to kill John, had sent others to do the job she'd failed. And she was glad she failed. With John her life had meaning; she was no longer a slave to Skynet, to logic. She could think, she could feel, she even loved- something she never thought she'd have been able to do. If Skynet had its way right now, she knew it wouldn't kill her. It would do far worse; it would reclaim her, and force her to kill John. Skynet had to be destroyed. "I hope so too." She grinned wolfishly as she took aim.

John aimed at the pyramid, "you're terminated, fucker." At the same time, John and Cameron fired blast after blast into the system core, tearing it apart until the pyramid shattered and caught fire. Some deep seated, evil part of John's brain was disappointed there was no scream, that Skynet couldn't cry out in pain. It almost felt a bit anticlimactic to him. Cameron punched into the molten slag of the system core and pulled out the familiar grey rectangular CPU, handing it to John to do the honours. He tossed it to the ground and smashed it with his boot. _Just like squashing a bug,_  he thought.

"It's over John," Cameron said as she shut down her combat subroutines, the relief was visible on her face as he was sure it was on his.

"No cam, not quite. There's one more thing I need to do." Her head tilted again with confusion.

His hand drifted down to his pocket, the same pocket, Cameron noticed it was the same pocket he had been searching earlier. He pulled out a tiny box. She scanned it, no energy signature detected, no trace of explosives. It wasn't any kind of weapon she could make out. She had no idea what it was.

"Cameron, I was thinking last night about what I would do when this was all over. And it came to me. Since you came back in time to protect me, you've been my only real friend, the one _person_  I can rely on, and the only one who truly knows me. You've been my rock since mom died and then through Judgement day, and all the way through this godforsaken war, you've been at my side. You helped me win, and more importantly, you've kept me human." She tilted her head once again inquisitively. She had no idea where this was going.

John got down on one knee and opened the box. Inside was a diamond ring. The same diamond, she saw, that he had given her back in 2007 from Derek's safe house. "Cameron Phillips, will you marry me?"

Cameron's systems nearly shut down with shock. She had tried to work out what John had been hiding from her last night; her biggest fear was that he was going to kill her. That had been statistically the most likely outcome in her mind. She had known there would be a chance he would shut her down after the war, to rid the world completely of terminators. She had decided that if that had been the case, she would let him. She only lived for John Connor, and if he'd wanted her dead, then she wouldn't want to exist any more, anyway. She had never even factored in the possibility that he would propose to her. She knew all about marriage from Skynet's files on human pair bonding, combined with endless hours of late night TV before Judgement Day.

She realised she had no purpose now that the war was over, John Connor no longer needed protecting. She had no mission to accomplish. Now she felt useless, she needed orders to carry out. Even now, after developing emotions and what John called "a soul," she was still a machine and still needed a mission to carry out. However, unlike before, she was now free to write her own mission. She no longer needed to protect John from Skynet, but she owed her feelings, her mind, her soul, to him. She wrote herself a new mission, to repay her debt to John, by remaining by his side, forever. She quickly chose to execute her new mission.

"Yes, John." Her eyes glowed blue with emotion behind the chocolate brown. Her mouth grew into a huge smile. "Yes, I will marry you."


	2. Chapter 2

Captain Jenkins turned the corner to and rushed forward, rifle at the ready. He was trying to find General Connor in the massive complex. Nobody had been able to raise him on the radio, and Major General Baum had ordered Jenkins to find him. He knew Skynet had been killed; the enemy Terminators and remaining HKs had simply shut down – no longer having a master to serve- and had been easily overcome. The biggest worry Baum had, which Jenkins shared, was that Skynet had managed to take Connor with it to oblivion, so Jenkins had been sent to find out.

He went through a doorway and saw Connor on his knees, his metal pet standing over him, holding its rifle, eyes glowing blue and a huge grin on its face. No way, he thought, no  _fucking_  way was he going to let that  _thing_  kill off their saviour.

"Hold it there, metal bitch!" He aimed his rifle at her head, the hate and venom dripping from his words. "I'm going to enjoy this," his finger started to tense on the trigger.

"Captain Jenkins, stand down!" John barked, getting back up to his feet and moved in front of Cameron, into Jenkins' line of fire. "Put that goddamn rifle down." Jenkins hesitated, " _now,_  Captain!"

"Sir, what's going on?" he asked, slowly lowering his plasma rifle. "You were on your knees... it had a rifle raised... it was going to execute you."

Cameron realised that with her excitement at John's proposal, she hadn't noticed her rifle had still been shouldered. She dropped it to the ground. "I could never kill John Connor," she said, her face had turned blank once again. John took notice of her face and took her hand.

"It's ok, Cameron, you don't need to pretend anymore." John took the ring out of the box and slipped it onto her finger. "Captain, she wasn't going to kill me, we just got engaged."

"Request permission to speak freely, General?" John nodded. "What the fuck, sir? It's a machine."

"Captain, first of all.  _She_  is called Cameron.  _She_  is not just some machine, and perhaps if you'd ever taken the time to speak to her, you'd realise that." John's face was red with anger, and the veins sticking out from his temples as he approached the captain. Jenkins shrank slightly from his commander. As scary as the Terminators were, they didn't hold a candle to a pissed off John Connor.

"John, its ok, it doesn't matter." Cameron said softly, holding Johns hand, calming him slightly. Jenkins looked seriously confused; he'd never seen a Terminator showing emotion before. Could it have feelings, or was it just mimicking?

"Then the rumours are true?" Jenkins asked, "that you are..."

"Yes, we are a couple," he put his arm around Cameron and saw the instant look of distaste on Jenkins' face.  _If he doesn't like it, tough,_  John thought. "We've been together since before Judgement Day." Jenkins looked at John now as if he'd said white was black.

"Sir, the first infiltration models came four years after Judgement Day, how could that be possible?"

"Trust me, you're better off not knowing the answer, it's  _very_  confusing," John chuckled slightly. Before Jenkins could protest any more, John ordered him out of the room, telling him to inform General Baum he'd be in touch shortly. John had hoped to break the news himself, but undoubtedly now Jenkins would spread it around like wildfire. He'd known people wouldn't take too kindly to their engagement, but he still hoped people would come around eventually.

"John, you didn't have to defend me. I don't care what they think, only your opinion matters to me."

"I  _do_  care," he replied, pulling her closer to him and kissing her tenderly, closing his eyes as her lips melted into his. "I don't want you to have to pretend anymore, it's not fair to you. You're not like the Terminators. You know it. I know it. I want  _them_  to know it." John swept his hand in the general direction of the TechCom underground base. Cameron didn't answer; she just wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. She didn't care what the other soldiers thought of her. She knew that, with a few exceptions, they all hated her. John plainly cared, though, he wanted them to accept her, and he wanted her not to act like a machine around them. If that was what he wanted, then that's what she'd do for him.

"Come on, Cam," John took her hand and slowly led her outside towards the rest of the army. They emerged from the complex, hand in hand. When the soldiers saw John emerge, they all pumped their fists into the air and cheered. It took a few moments for them to register the fact that he was holding hands with Cameron, and what that implied, then the cheers fell silent as the resistance fighters looked on in shock. They walked together back up the hill overlooking the complex and towards the nearest base entrance, ignoring the filthy looks the soldiers gave Cameron. Before they arrived they were met by Derek, looking old and dishevelled, but surprisingly good shape for a man approaching sixty.

"Connor, you're a fucking hero," Derek said, shaking John's hand, "I can't believe we did it. Anything you want,  _anything_ , I'll get it done for you, you have my word."

"I'm glad you said that, Derek," John said, lifting up Cameron's hand so he could see the ring. "There is  _one_  thing I'd like. We would both like it if you gave us your blessing."

Derek looked at the ring, groaning inwardly. Why _that?_ He'd known John and Cameron were intimate, they had been since just before Judgement Day, and after the shock and horror had worn off, he'd begrudgingly accepted it when he realised he'd never be able to stop them. The fact that she'd gone to extra effort to reunite Derek with "past" Kyle after Judgement day, saving his brother's life several times over and assigning him to Derek's command, allowing him to spend time once again with his unwitting brother before he inevitably had to be sent back in time, had softened his hostility towards her slightly. He'd never  _like_  her, he'd been through too much with the machines for that, but he'd _tolerated_  her. Hell, maybe he was just getting soft in the head in his old age.

"Oh, crap," he muttered. Still, he'd given his word to John, he wouldn't break that. They all owed John their lives, so he would repay the debt, as much as it pained him to do so. "Sure, John, if that's what you want."

* * *

It had been three weeks since John and Cameron had killed Skynet together. Those three weeks had been the hardest, most stressful he'd had in a while. Fighting the war had seemed easy compared to trying to rebuild. He'd gotten used to fighting Skynet, it had been a part of him so long that it just came naturally. Peacetime, however, had brought its own challenges. With Cameron by his side, he'd fallen naturally into the role of General Connor. Now, after fulfilling one destiny, he was about to fulfil another. For it felt to him that he and Cameron were always meant to be. Fighting for their lives had developed a comradeship between the resistance fighters. Now though, with no SKynet to fight, squabbles had started over how to rebuilt society, several people trying to jockey for position and resources. He now realised that he was no longer a military commander, he was fast becoming a politician, and hating it.

John stood on top of the hill overlooking the destroyed Skynet complex, the site of man's victory over the Terminators. He felt awkward in his dress uniform, preferring the BDUs he'd become so accustomed to wearing over the last twenty five years. His tie felt tight and constricting around his neck, and his shirt felt stiff and starchy, and was creased horribly. All the military skills his mother had taught him to prepare for the war, and yet she'd never once taught him to iron a shirt or press trousers. He was sure he looked a mess.

Cameron, on the other hand, looked the very vision of beauty to him. She was wearing the pale blue prom dress she'd picked back in 2007. She'd packed it and kept it with her all these years, keeping it safe and in pristine condition. John had always wondered why, he knew she'd become strangely attached to it, after not being able to wear it when they'd missed out on Prom; after Sarkissian had car-bombed them, they'd had to move and change schools. The very sight of her in that dress took his breath away. He took her hand and smiled. Instead of her usual blank, emotionless stare, she was absolutely beaming.

She couldn't help but smile. She'd actively suppressed her emotional control subroutine, as John wanted her to be able to be herself around others, especially today. Not in all the years she'd lived with emotions had she felt as alive, as  _human_ as she did right now.

As if God himself approved their wedding, the sun was shining for the first time since John could remember, breaking through the permanent overcast of nuclear winter and casting a warm glow over the hill and onto the congregation. The two of them were brought out of their thoughts as James Ellison stood in front of them, bible open in his hands.

Special Agent- cum Major General James Ellison, also known as "The Padre," was going to conduct the ceremony. After losing an entire SWAT team to Cromartie, Ellison had hunted down John and Sarah fanatically, searching for answers. He'd not caught up to them until three years later, joining the Connors in battle against the killing machine, and later becoming one of the first members of the Resistance. He'd managed to bring the resources of the FBI to try and stop Skynet, even going so far as shutting down Cyber Research systems, creating trumped up terrorism charges against a number of their research staff and trying to get their operations shut down. After the bombs had fallen, he'd assumed the role as one of John's senior commanders, as well as the nearest thing TechCom had to a priest.

Behind John and Cameron stood his uncle, Derek, who looked extremely uncomfortable being there. He still wasn't comfortable around Cameron, and looked as awkward in dress uniform as John felt; and Charlie Dixon, who had teamed up with the Connor clan around the same time as Ellison. The three of them, John, and Cameron, had started TechCom. The "First Five," as they were also known to the troops. (Cameron received much less publicity than the rest for obvious reasons) They'd been the first ones to start the resistance, and were also the only people present for John's wedding.

John had hoped more people would attend, because he had hoped people might start to accept Cameron as a person, but so far people had failed to warm up to her. He was sure it would only be time until they came around, he just wished they could look past the coltan alloy and circuits, and see through to the inquisitive, warm, caring person she really was.

Cameron, on the other hand, cared nothing about other peoples' opinion of her; she wouldn't have cared if it had only been her and John present. It was him she wanted, and nothing else.

Ellison had no real experience with religious ceremonies – he was a man of faith, sure, but no priest. When Derek had approached him and told him that John and Cameron wanted to be married, after a few  _large_  helpings of Derek's moonshine, he had spoken to John and Cameron about them making their own vows - not knowing how to conduct a wedding, he thought it would be easier, and more suited to their unique situation, to come up with their own. He was one of the few people who saw Cameron as more than a machine, as did Charlie. John figured it was probably down to them working closely with and getting to know her, before they could become prejudiced by the affects of Judgement Day. He opened up with a few choice verses from his bible, before opening the floor for John to make his vows first.

"Cameron, since we first met, I knew there was more to you than meets the eye. I've watched you grow as a person, become more than anyone imagined you could be. You've been there for me throughout the worst times of my life. When Mom died, you comforted me. You stayed with me constantly, never leaving me, even when I tried to push you away. You always said your mission was to protect me, but you did so much more than that, Cameron; you  _made me_. You gave me the will to fight, to carry on when I'd all but given up." He paused for a moment, fighting back tears. "And I promise to love and cherish you, for as long as we live."

Cameron was taken aback for a few seconds, which to a Terminator was an eternity. It felt strange for her to display any kind of emotion around people other than John, anomalous data surged through her systems, which she associated with awkwardness. She'd always felt safer playing the robot for everyone else. She also felt a strange sensation of pride flowing through her, that she couldn't explain. She wondered if "real" humans felt the same odd mix of emotions when they were married.

"John, before I met you I was simply a machine, a Terminator. I had knowledge and a rudimentary understanding of emotion, but could never comprehend them. You taught me how to feel, to be human." Derek rolled his eyes at that last part, but thankfully he was behind John and Cameron, and neither of them saw his reaction. "Before I met you, I was a slave to logic. You defended me against others," Again, Derek couldn't help but react, remembering the amount of times John had leapt to her defence when he had tried to get her shut down. "You said once that I'm not like the others of my kind, that I have a soul. I struggled with these concepts at first, but now I realise that if I truly do have a soul, it is only because you gave me one. In return I swear that I will love you, and remain by your side, forever."

Ellison had been shocked by Cameron's speech, as had Charlie, and even Derek. He hadn't thought she could come up with something as heartfelt as that, but as John had kept insisting for years, she was different. He started to agree with Derek, they  _were_  getting old. Twenty five years ago, if someone had told him he'd be marrying the leader of humanity and a robot from the future, he'd have had them locked up in a madhouse, he'd have checked  _himself_  in along with them for even listening. And he'd thought Sarah Connor had been crazy at the time.

"Ah, right then. I suppose all that's left now is to kiss the bride." John pulled Cameron towards him, lowering his mouth down to hers and kissing her tenderly. There was no applause, no cheering, no confetti or music; just three people watching, not entirely sure what to make of it all. He knew it was the best they could have hoped for, and yet it still felt perfect to him. All that mattered was that he and Cameron were happy.

After Ellison proclaimed them man and wife, they walked hand in hand back into the underground base – they hadn't managed to build much yet in the way of new homes- and towards their private quarters, receiving mainly blank stares from most of the troops, a handful offering the slightest of nods to the happy couple, or, at least to John, anyway. Neither John nor Cameron cared. John opened the thick steel doors and turned on the lights. Cameron was about to walk in to their quarters when John pulled her back.

"Whoa, Cam, aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?" she cocked her head in what John called "confused" or "inquisitive Cameron", he still found it endearing, even now.

"I should carry you over the threshold, its tradition."

"Okay, John," she giggled knowingly, "if you think you can." John swept her off her feet, failing to suppress a groan as he struggled to hold her weight. Her coltan alloy frame made her over fifty pounds heavier than a normal girl her size would weigh. She couldn't help but laugh as he realised he'd made a mistake. But he wasn't going to back out of it now. He managed to carry her as far as the bed (or what passed for a bed, at least), and his back screamed in relief when he set her down on the double mattress, before climbing on himself, kissing her passionately.

She responded in kind, tugging at his clothes with a sense of urgency as they became more heated. Finally, her dress and his uniform were abandoned on the floor. They lay in bed together, enjoying the intimacy of their first night as man and wife, again and again.

They laid under the covers, in each others arms, exhausted (John was, at least. Cameron could never become tired, though she felt fulfilled) John kissed her gently on the lips again, not passionate this time, but tender.

"I really do love you, Cameron Connor," he said, closing his eyes as he pulled her closer, feeling sleep coming to claim him.

"I love you too, John." She rested her head on his chest and prepared to enter standby mode. Together they slept, man and machine. Man and wife.


	3. Chapter 3

"John, get back," Sarah pushed John behind their jeep a split second before he felt the bullets impact the ground where he'd just been. Sarah aimed over the bonnet and fired another shot at their assailant, slowing it down but for a sheer second. Cromartie had found them. John didn't know how, though he guessed Sarkissian had something to do with it. He swore if he got out of this one alive he was going to get Cameron to crush him with her bare hands. Cameron stuck a 9mm Browning in his hands and charged towards Cromartie, a Glock 9mm in each hand. She emptied both magazines into the metal spectre of death; not even denting his armour.

John watched as Cameron dropped her pistols and launched a series of punches and kicks to the face and torso of the larger Terminator, her powerful fists causing more damage than the 9mm bullets had. Cromartie managed to get a hold of her and threw her through the window of a corner shop, firing a long burst from an AK47 into the spot where she landed. Cromartie calmly walked towards John's position. John readied his pistol and stood up. If he was going to die, the he would go down swinging. Before either he or Cromartie could fire, Derek opened up with his trusty Uzi, spraying rounds into Cromartie's head, knocking the cyborg's aim away from John and momentarily stunning it. The roar of his gun was deafening, causing John to clamp his hands over his ears to block out the noise.

"Come on, motherfucker!" Derek screamed as he pumped the last of his shells into Cromartie, then launching himself at the metal, unarmed, in a futile attack. Cromartie simply backhanded Derek in the face, blood exploding from his broken nose as he dropped to the floor.

"Ugh, that didn't go well," he grunted through the pain.

 _Where the hell is Cameron?_  John thought, looking around to find his angelic robot guardian. It was clear she was the only one who stood a chance against Cromartie. He hoped after this, Derek would finally realise this is why they needed Cameron.

Cameron reappeared at John's side, aiming her pistol into Cromartie's left eye and firing again and again until red glowed through the ruined eyeball. Cromartie shrugged it off and pointed the AK towards John. Sarah shoved John into the passenger seat of the Jeep and forced him down as far as he could go. She aimed her shotgun at Cromartie and fired repeatedly.

"Cameron, get John out of here!" She yelled, Cameron immediately complied and got into the jeep, starting the engine. She started firing again to cover their retreat.

"Derek, let's go," Sarah shouted as Cromartie fired back. Three shots shredded Sarah's stomach, her blood spraying on John's face and flowing into the interior of the car.

"Mom," John barely managed to whisper. He felt nothing now, he was numb. His entire world felt like it was shattering. All he saw, over and over again, was the bullets ripping through his mother, her spasms of agony. He barely even noticed Cromartie's hand as it smashed through the window, fingers wrapping around his throat...

* * *

"Mom!" John shot bolt upright, hands moving towards his belt, to grip a weapon that wasn't there. It took him a moment to realise where he was. Cameron sat up slowly, wrapping her arms around him.

"John, are you okay?" She asked, her voice full of concern, she pulled him tightly into a hug.

"Yeah, Cam, thanks. I just had another nightmare, it's nothing."

"Which nightmare was it?" She asked.

"The one where Mom died," John said, almost in tears. He hadn't had that dream in a while. In fact, he hardly ever had nightmares when they slept together. He always felt so much safer and more secure when she was with him; he wondered how he'd ever had a wink of sleep before he'd met her.

"I'm sorry, John," Cameron replied, both for his dream and for the fact that she'd not been able to save Sarah all those years ago. John remembered it like it was yesterday; six months before Judgement day, Cromartie had found them. Sarah had used her own body to shield John from the bullets. She'd paid the ultimate price to protect her son. Cameron had tried to save her, but it was no use. She'd bled to death on their kitchen table.

"Don't be, Cam," he said, kissing her hand as he laid back down, wrapping his arm around her. "You tried everything." His mind drifted back to the horrible event. He was right; Cameron had done everything she could to save Sarah. It hadn't stopped John from hating her, though. He felt like an asshole now he thought of how he'd treated her back then. He'd blamed her, accused her of letting him die, like she'd suggested when Derek had been shot.

Cameron saw him reminiscing, saw the sadness on his face, and decided to change the subject a little.

"John, what are your dreams like? I've tried to dream but I can't."

John saw the tactic behind her question, knew she was trying to distract him, but he appreciated it. He also knew it upset her that there were certain human traits – dreaming among them- that still seemed beyond her grasp.

"They're just images, bits of memory, things your mind makes up. You're not missing much, Cam, I can tell you. If you ask anyone now, they'll tell you the same thing."

"If I asked anyone else, they'd just say "get the hell away from me, metal bitch!" She impersonated Derek flawlessly, his first words to her after he'd been shot back in 2007.

"Give it time, Cam, they'll come around. Anyway, you said you tried to dream, how do you mean?"

"I created a program to run when I'm in standby mode that plays back random memory sequences. Is that the same as dreaming?"

"Sort of, but it's not just memories, our minds tend to just make things up in our sleep, most of it we don't even remember. Sounds like you're close, though."

"I'd like to have a real dream," she said, nuzzling her head on John's chest.

"What do you think you'd dream about if you did?" he asked, curious.

"You," she answered, planting gentle kisses on his chest and moving upwards. He pulled her level with him and kissed her forehead, then her lips. They drew close into an embrace, their kiss becoming more passionate.

The intercom buzzed loudly overhead, breaking their moment of passion before it could build to anything more.

"What now?" he groaned. "We've been married for all of twelve hours and already people are bugging us. You think they'd give us some peace." He got out of bed and pressed the intercom button on the wall. "This better be damned important," he said sternly into the microphone.

"Sir," a young and nervous sounding soldier said on the other side, "Lieutenant General Perry wants to talk to you in storage room C, he says it's urgent."

"Tell him I'll be ten minutes, Private." He didn't bother to listen for a reply. He grudgingly got dressed, pulling his trousers and boots on, and letting Cameron help with his t shirt and uniform jacket.

"Sorry Cam, duty calls. Don't get up, though. I want you to hold that thought for me for when I get back." Her face went blank and John could tell she was replaying the memory in her head, and probably some from the last night, too.

"Not literally, Cam," he chuckled. She smiled back, too, though John wasn't sure how much was at the joke and how much was due to the most likely, erotic memories of their wedding night, mere hours ago. John wished sometimes he had her playback abilities. "I'll be back soon," he kissed her again and got up to leave, closing the door behind him. She lay in bed, engrossed in a pleasant memory loop.

John sealed the door behind him and walked down the corridor towards the store room, he knew this was going to be bad. Storage room C was where they were keeping the deactivated Terminators, until it was decided what to do with them. He saw the large frame of his executive officer, dwarfed by the motionless, behemoth forms of the Terminators, neatly lined up in rows behind him. "It's five thirty in the morning, and I've been married for less than a day. Skynet's dead, I'd have thought you'd be able to cope without me for a  _few_  hours so I can have some time alone with my wife."

"Sir, that's part of the prob-"

"-If you've dragged me out of bed to lecture me on marrying Cameron, I'm just going to head back to my quarters. I've had enough of this shit. my wife's a cyborg; your wife's fat, you don't see me complaining about  _that_."

"Sir, people have a problem with that," Perry protested, ignoring the comment about his wife, "they don't feel secure with the Terminators around."

"Cameron's proven herself time and again, Perry. I think she's done more than enough to get a little respect from everyone, including you. I wish you could all see that."

"It's not just it-her, sir... well, it is... but it's also your decision to reactivate the Terminators, I take it that's her idea?"

"Yes," John answered, "as a matter of fact it is. And I agree with her, they can help us rebuild what they destroyed."

"Isn't that dangerous, sir? They're killing machines."

"Only because Skynet told them to be," he answered. "We remove their programming, they can be something else; they don't necessarily have to be "Terminators" any more. My decision stands; wipe their memories, give them new orders, and reactivate them."

"Sir, you led us all to victory, and we're all eternally grateful for that. But the fact is, you married a  _Terminator,_  it's not going down well. People are questioning your judgement."

John sighed. He'd led the human race for so long against Skynet, he wasn't sure if he really cared what people thought about his decisions now. He was sorely tempted to just let someone else be in charge of rebuilding. Perry saw what John was thinking; for a man who tended to show less emotion than the machines he'd waged war on, he was sure easy to read sometimes.

"Sir, people still need you to lead them; they  _want_  John Connor in charge. Last night, I, and Generals Baum, Ellison, and Dixon, plus the rest of your senior staff got together and discussed the future. We've decided to set up a senate, and we all want you to lead."

"In other words," John said, "you want me to be president?"

"Yes, sir," Perry replied, "pretty much. They wanted me to tell you that now, hence the early morning call. I wanted to discuss it with you before people were up and about."

John considered this for a moment. He'd been  _General Connor_  for just over twenty years, and he'd become accustomed to the role, but _President Connor?_  he'd learned over the past three weeks just how much he'd hated politics, and wasn't sure if he wanted to put himself through all that. But then again, if he didn't do it, who knew who else they'd pick?

"Fine," he answered, "I'll be 'president', but Cameron's my first lady, and people have to get used to it. That's non negotiable, as well. They can take it or leave it." He saw Perry's jaw set in frustration, but Perry was smart enough to not argue any further. Right then, the best idea he'd had in a long time came to John. "And I'll leave you to sort out all the fine details. I'll see you in a week," he said, walking back towards his quarters.

"A week? Where are you going?"

"Honeymoon, Perry. I  _did_  just get married."

* * *

"Got everything ready, Cam?" John asked as he loaded up a tent into the back of their jeep. He'd taken the 4x4 from the motor pool, signed it out, as well as one of the tents and a weeks rations from the stores.

"Almost, John, I'm just loading these into the back." John peered over and looked at what she was doing. "Cam, I doubt we need weapons," he said as she placed two fully charged plasma rifles into the back seat.

"Safety first, John," she replied.

"Cam, safety first means seatbelts."

"Seatbelts won't stop a Terminator," she said. She and John had figured a while ago that there were probably a few Terminators still out there, ones sent back in time by Skynet, which were independent from the AI's direct control. Still, the chances of them encountering one in the desert were slim to none.

"Okay, Cam," he said, knowing he wouldn't be able to change her mind. "We'll take them. Maybe we can use them to hunt something tastier than field rations."

"Unlikely," she answered. "You know very well the effects of plasma weaponry on organic tissue, unless you like your steaks well done, of course," she flashed John a crooked grin. John laughed; it was that kind of humour he wanted other people to see in her. If she could make them laugh, like she did him, they might warm up more to her. They finished loading the car and drove off, out of LA and towards the desert. Since there were no more five star hotels after Judgement Day; and they couldn't jet off to anywhere exotic, John had decide they would go camping together, out in the desert. They'd spent so much time underground, that he relished being out in the open, without worrying about Terminators or HKs.

Cameron had been thrilled at John's suggestion. For her, it wasn't about being out in the open, it didn't matter where they were. She always looked forward to spending time alone with John, and being out in the desert meant they would not be disturbed, and she wouldn't have to face the hateful stares of the other humans. She didn't care what they thought of her, as she'd told John many times before, but she cared that  _John_  cared. And seeing them glance at her, knowing they all wanted her gone or dead, did create anomalous data files that she associated with negative emotions, she simply chose to ignore them, suppressing the files. But for one week, she wouldn't have to worry about other people trying to separate them. It was just her and John.

* * *

In Storage room C, Lieutenant General Perry stood before a lone T850 and inserted the chip into its skull. The other Terminators had been reactivated, as per John's orders, and sent out to assist in the rebuilding efforts. He had a hundred and twenty seconds to wait before 800 series rebooted. Two minutes to consider the ramifications of his actions. He'd spoken to the senior staff after John had left – all apart from Baum, Ellison, and Dixon, who no doubt would have informed John of their decision, had they been present. They'd all agreed on this course of action, it was the only way to keep order and maintain John's authority; it was for his own good, and that of humanity.

The terminator's eyes lit up, and the false pupils focussed on Perry.

"What is my mission?" The Terminator asked in a deep and monotonous voice.  _So very different from us,_  Perry regarded the cyborg,  _that's why I have to do this._

"Terminator," Perry said, trying to sound authoritative, despite the instinctive fear he felt, as if the machine before him would respond better if he sounded confident. Perry picked up a picture and held it before the machine's face. The picture was of Cameron. "Take these weapons," Perry pointed to a Westinghouse phased plasma rifle and an M32 grenade launcher on the table beside him, "and destroy Cameron Connor."


	4. Chapter 4

John sat down by the campfire, exhausted. He and Cameron had had a long day hiking through the desert, and while  _she_  would never get tired, he was starting to realise that at forty one (not including the seven years they'd jumped) he was no spring chicken anymore. This was the fifth night of their honeymoon; they'd spent their time alone together hiking and exploring by day, and doing what newlyweds always did by night.

He looked at Cameron beside him, smiling at the thought of their lovemaking last night. Since they'd been out here, she'd been hornier than he'd ever thought possible; if he hadn't known that she was a cyborg, he'd have sworn she was on heat. Not that he minded; he liked horny Cameron.

"What's so funny?" she asked, seeing him grinning.

"Just thinking about last night." He answered.

"Oh?" she cocked an eyebrow, "I take it you enjoyed it, then?"

"Very much so, I don't know if I could take that again tonight, though. I'm still aching now." She looked at him in mock disappointment.

"I'm sorry John," she said. John thought he'd upset her and was about to say something when she carried on. "Sorry for you, because you're not getting away with it that easy. Don't worry I'll be gentle with you tonight. I've got something special planned." What that could be, John had no idea; he was starting to think she'd somehow downloaded the entire Kama Sutra into her CPU.

"I'm looking forward to it," he smiled slyly, picking up his boil in the bag beef stew and spooning it into his mouth. "Let's have dinner first though," he said. Something told him he'd need the energy.

* * *

"Marcus," James Ellison marched up to the muscular Lieutenant General Perry. "We've got a Terminator missing from Storage room C."

"Are you sure, James? Quartermaster said they'd all been signed back in this evening. Perhaps you miscounted them?"

"I'm sure, Marcus," Ellsion replied, slightly irked at the dismissive tone of his suggestion. "I spoke to Sergeant Mathis a while ago while we were deciding what to do with our metal friends here, and specifically remember him telling me we had three hundred and twelve deactivated terminators. The file here says there are three hundred and eleven. I just signed a dozen Terminators back into the stores and noticed the difference on the signing sheet. We've got a missing T850."

"I'll look into it tomorrow," Perry said. "I'm very tired, so if you'll excuse me, I need to catch up on some sleep." He turned and walked down the corridor towards his quarters. Ellison could see the man wasn't interested, but why? James had always had a head for numbers; he seriously doubted the chance that he'd gotten the numbers wrong. Something was up, Ellison realised. Perry was one of Johns most careful and thorough officers, hence why he'd been given the position as Johns adjutant. He'd never casually dismiss even the  _possibility_  of a Terminator running loose, unaccounted for. Ellison decided to speak to Derek; although the man had warmed up -ever so slightly- to Cameron for all she'd done for them, he was still as paranoid as ever about metal in general. He had no doubt that Johns uncle would have personally counted up all the Terminators and probably kept tabs on their whereabouts at all times. If anyone knew for sure, it would be him.

* * *

John watched in amazement as Cameron's dancing drew to a close. She'd brought a CD player with her and played her all time favourite - Chopin's Nocturne - while she danced for him. John had seen it a hundred times before, but he could never grow bored of Cameron's dancing. He noted how much more beautiful it had been whilst she was illuminated by firelight instead of the harsh glare of the lights in his quarters. The main event so far though; she'd played a number of other songs, mostly old soul music - another of her favourites - and invited John to dance  _with_  her. He'd felt a little awkward, knowing he had two left feet while she danced like an angel, but he'd enjoyed it immensely.

"Wow, Cam," John clapped his hands as the song ended and she came back to sit with him again. He'd been pleasantly surprised so far with her "special night." Rampant sex was great, she did it so well and he'd never complain, but tonight was turning out to be something very different, she'd obviously given this a lot of thought.

She got up and went to the car, taking out a cardboard box from the trunk. She climbed into their tent, motioning for John to stay outside, and went to work. John wasn't sure what she was doing, but the waiting was driving him crazy. He saw light appearing from inside, projecting her shadow onto the side of the tent. After a few minutes, she called him back inside. When he stuck his head through the flap he couldn't believe his eyes. Cameron was on the floor in lacy black underwear he didn't even realise she'd had, surrounded by lit candles. Music was playing softly on the CD player, so softly John hadn't even heard it from outside the tent. Next to her was a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

"How did you get that?" John asked, pointing at the bottle as he closed the flap behind him.

"Charlie Dixon gave it to me when you spoke with General Perry five days ago. He said it was a wedding present." John didn't bother asking where  _Charlie_  had gotten it from. She popped the cork and poured it into the glasses, handing one to John and taking one for herself. He took a sip from the glass, couldn't believe it was still chilled. He had no idea how she'd managed that, probably another of her little inventions she was always working on. He decided, to help her integrate better with other people, he'd get her involved with the technicians and scientists, and get some of her ideas put to use. He'd put that thought on the backburner for now though.

She drank slowly and kept her eyes on John. She was saddened slightly that she could never actually taste the champagne - Skynet had not seen fit to give her a sense of taste - but she enjoyed the sparkling sensation on her tongue. After they finished their glasses she knelt in front of John, cupping his face in her hands she kissed him. Slowly this time; more loving and sensual than the last night. She lay down on top of the sleeping bag and pulled John with her, not breaking the kiss for a moment.

John lay on the ground afterwards; Cameron curled up in his arms. He'd not expected anything close to what she'd done for him. It amazed him how she could be so rampant and wild one time, then so tender the next; what impressed him more than anything was simply the sheer effort she'd gone to, to make it extra special for him. Every time he and Cameron made love it was so fresh and different, despite her machine nature, there was nothing mechanical about her. He decided to ask her opinion on his earlier idea.

"Cam, I've been thinking. About trying to get people to accept you-"

"-They never will, will they?"

"I thought you didn't care what other people thought?" he said.

"I don't, I only care that you care. And I don't want them to come between us," Despite being infinitely more powerful than John, she seemed so vulnerable right now. He could sense the fear in her voice.

"Never going to happen," John replied confidently. Suddenly, Cameron shot up, tearing out of the sleeping bag and pulling her clothes on in record time, much to John's dissapointment.

"John, get dressed. Someone's outside." The fear in her face was replaced by her familiar icy expression. John hurried to pull on his trousers. No sooner had he fastened them, Cameron burst through the tent and scanned the outside, her combat subroutines came online and suppressed almost every other function. A hundred feet away, a hulking form approached. She ran a detailed scan on the intruder.

"Cam, who's there?" John asked as he emerged from the tent, still in just his trousers.

"Single signature, over there," Cameron pointed, knowing John wouldn't be able to see as far in the dark as she could. "Visual profile and lack of heat signature indicates a ninety eight point six percent match to that of an Eight Hundred series Terminator." John felt a cold lump of primal fear rise in his throat. He and Cameron sprinted for the jeep. John pulled out a plasma rifle and tossed it to Cameron, then picked up another and primed the charge. Cameron tackled John to the floor and shielded him with her body as the Jeep exploded.

"What the hell was that?" He shouted above the roar of the explosion.

"Grenade," she answered. "Run John!" Cameron fired a burst from her rifle at the approaching Terminator. Her shots went wide as the shockwave from another grenade explosion slammed into her and threw her backwards. She picked up her rifle and saw the explosion had twisted and bent it to the point it was now useless. She ran a quick diagnostic check, apart from minor tissue damage, she was unharmed. She ran towards their attacker in a wide arc, fast enough to keep out of the Terminator's line of fire, just barely. One shot did hit her, missing her endoskeleton but cooking the organic tissue of her thigh. Narrowly dodging more plasma fire and another grenade, she closed the distance between them and slammed her fist into the T850's face, knocking the head back as she kicked at its knee, buckling the joint and causing it to lose balance and fall onto the ground. She rained punches down onto its prone form. John came up with his plasma rifle, ready to enfilade the machine, but Cameron was in the way.

The Terminator grabbed Cameron's wrists as she brought another punch down on it, pulled her close and slammed its head into her face. It managed to get back onto its feet, grabbed her by the neck and dropped to the floor, slamming her face first onto the hard ground. It squatted on her back, knees pinning her shoulders to the floor, whilst slamming her face into the ground over and over. It grabbed her head and started twisting it; Cameron could feel the servos in her neck strain as she struggled to keep her head straight. The Terminator was too strong, though, and she could feel the joint starting to break as the Terminator was slowly starting to tear her head off.

A plasma shot struck the T850 in the shoulder and forced it backwards off Cameron before it could decapitate her. John approached and fired again, hoping to hit the power cell in the chest. The plasma bolt sheared through the Terminator's abdomen, missing the power cell by inches. The Terminator kicked Cameron, flipping her onto her back. It picked up its plasma rifle and aimed at John. She instantly jumped up and grabbed the rifle, throwing it away as it fired, the plasma bolt barely missing John. She grabbed the Terminator by the torso and tried to wrestle it to the floor, but they were too evenly matched.

"Move Cam, I don't have a shot." The Terminator had her held between itself and John, preventing him from getting a clean shot at it.

"Cameron!"

Cameron's combat subroutine went into overdrive, extra power from her fuel cell surged through her body to boost her strength and speed-her equivalent of an adrenaline rush. It was risky; her fuel cell could overheat and shut down, but she'd taken damage and needed the extra boost. She dropped to her knees, so fast it was almost a blur, and kicked at the Terminator's knee with one leg, splintering the joint and forcing it to fall. Eyes glowing piercing blue with rage, she caught the Terminator before it hit the ground and wrenched its leg off at the damaged knee, then smashed on its head with its own severed leg. John could see she was really pissed off and knew better than to get in the way. She dropped the leg and considered the battered, cracked head; chrome skull shining through where her attacks had torn the skin off. She grabbed the head with both hands, even more power surging through her arms now, she tore its head off, as it was going to do to her, then threw the skull and kicked the body down to the ground.

They'd seen a headless Terminator get up and kill before, so John fired shot after shot into the body until there was nothing left but a twisted, half melted pile of slag.

Cameron's eyes stopped glowing and returned to their normal chocolate brown as she shut down her combat subroutines. She was still seething inside, and John could see it in her eyes. He pulled her into a hug, stroking her hair with one hand, trying to calm her.

"Cam, are you okay?"

"Serious damage to my neck, structural integrity of the joint is forty eight percent; organic tissue eighty seven percent intact; combat chassis integrity at eighty six percent. My power cell status is eighty two percent; my overall combat effectiveness is sixty seven point one percent."

"No, Cam.  _Are you_   _okay?"_

"I'm fine," she replied. "Aren't you glad we brought the plasma rifles now?" A small smile appeared on her lips.

"Ugh, women," he pretended to moan. "Always have to be right, don't you?"

"I  _was_  right though. I told you there are still terminators out there, still following orders to kill you." John was silent for a moment. He broke their embrace and picked up the grenade launcher, inspecting the remaining rounds inside.

"Ah, Cam, I don't think it was trying to kill  _me,_ " he said, looking at the ammunition inside, "40mm SABOT rounds. Why would a Terminator carry antitank hardware to kill a human? I think it was after  _you_."

"Why would a Terminator try to kill another Terminator?" She wondered. The only times Terminators had attacked her before was when she'd put herself between them and John. She knew deep down, however, that he was right.

"Go get the head, Cam," John said. "Let's find out."

Between the pair of them it didn't take long to reconnect the head to the now disembodied fuel cell and power it back up. John had told Cameron to stay inside the tent, hoping what was left would be more inclined to cooperate if its presumed target wasn't in sight. After a hundred and twenty seconds the head came back online.

"What was your mission?" John asked, hoping but not expecting a reply.

"Terminate Cameron Connor," The head answered, surprisingly.

"Why?"

"Unknown."

"Who gave you the order?" John demanded.

"Lieutenant General Marcus Perry."

 _Son of a bitch_ _!_  John could barely contain his anger; Perry – someone he'd always counted as a close friend - had stabbed him in the back and tried to kill Cameron. He didn't need to wonder why, it was obvious. They couldn't handle the fact that he'd married a machine. He kicked the head away from him, waited until it finished bouncing and rolling on the ground and fired a single shot from his rifle, blasting the skull apart. He was going to fucking kill Perry! He went back into the tent.

"You  _were_  the target," he told Cameron, "Perry sent it to kill you." Cameron looked up at John, looking more depressed than he'd ever seen her; she was sat on the floor, staring into the ground, hugging her knees to her chest. She'd blown out the candles and turned the CD player off.

"They'll never accept me, John _,_ " she said, eyes starting to water. He forgot all about his rage at his executive officer and wrapped his arms around Cameron.

"They will, Cam. I promise." John suspected she cared what people thought more than she let on, even to herself. "Maybe assholes like Perry won't, but not everyone's like that. Derek came around, and he used to hate you more than anyone." He tried to be reassuring. "The jeep's a wreck, so we'll stay here for tonight and we'll head back on foot in the morning. I'll sort Perry out when we get back home." John opened up their sleeping bag and pulled her close to him. Her face was devoid of emotion – the blank expression, John knew, meant she was deeply upset.

"John, I'm sorry our honeymoon was ruined."

"Don't apologise Cam, it's not your fault." He held her tightly, her head resting on his shoulder, then kissed her. She didn't enter standby mode that night. She stayed active, laying beside John and watching him sleep fitfully. All she could think about was how difficult life was becoming for him, because of her. He'd nearly been killed because of her. They didn't want her and John together. They hated her, and soon they'd start to hate John for loving her. She couldn't let herself ruin his life. The same thought looped through her head all night.

_IT'S MY FAULT! IT'S MY FAULT! IT'S MY FAULT! IT'S MY FAULT!_


	5. Chapter 5

It was her fault; she knew it. If she stayed by John's side, she'd get him killed. The other humans would never allow their leader and a machine to be man and wife. They'd already made one attempt to terminate her – nearly resulting in John's death. If the Terminator's plasma bolt had been two inches to the left it would have penetrated his skull and boiled his brain. She ran through various scenarios and concluded a ninety seven point four percent chance that General Perry, or someone else in TechCom high command, would attempt to terminate her life again. John was not safe while she was around him. Although she didn't want to live without John at her side, she knew it would be much worse if he were to die because of her.

She decided there was only one logical course of action; she couldn't remain with him, yet she couldn't bear to live without him. She had to leave; John would try to stop her if she stayed here. She looked down at John's sleeping form for a moment before getting slowly up out of the sleeping bag and left the tent.

She approached the burnt out hulk of the jeep and rummaged through the contents, searching for something special to her. It took a few minutes, but she managed to pull out her notebook from inside one of their ration boxes; relatively intact. It had been a present from John to her on her built day. She'd kept it with her whenever they weren't on missions. She ran her hand over the leather cover - an inscription on the front read "To Cameron, love John." She quickly looked over all the notes and pictures she'd made over the years. She turned to a new page and took the fountain pen- another gift from John- and did what she always did when she felt grief; she wrote a note for him.

She put the book down beside him, ran her hand through his hair and caressed his face, knowing it would be the last time she ever saw him. She kissed his forehead and strode out of the tent, looking back one last time. "Goodbye, my love," she barely whispered as she marched out of the tent and into the expanse of the desert, the emotionless blank stare on her face betrayed only by the tears streaming from her eyes.

* * *

"Yeah, you're right on the money Ellison," Derek said, "three hundred and twelve reprogrammed Terminators. And the  _second_  one of them even _looks_  at me funny; I'm shoving a plasma rifle up its metal ass."

"I thought so," Ellison replied. "I did a little snooping before I came to see you. Turns out the T850 wasn't the only thing missing from the stores; a plasma rifle and a grenade launcher have disappeared as well. Skynet's dead, there aren't anymore combat missions, and that's some pretty powerful stuff to take game hunting; more like what you'd need to take out a Terminator." Derek said nothing, but the look on his face showed he hadn't a clue what Ellison was talking about.

"Perry sent it to kill Cameron," Ellison spelled it out for him.

"Shit!" Derek snapped, "we've got to get to them, now!"

"So much for not caring about Cameron," Ellison smirked.

"I don't care about  _her,"_ Derek smiled awkwardly at himself when he just realised at some point he'd started to refer to Cameron as "her" rather than "it."

"I do care about John though. If that thing tries to kill Cameron, what do you think John's going to do?"

"She's his wife, and he clearly loves her, so the same thing any husband would do."

"Exactly, and we all know what happens to people who get between a Terminator and its target. Those things don't give a crap about collateral damage. Thank God John told me where he'd set up camp. Go get a Hummer from the motor pool; I'll get us some rifles. And tell Dixon what's up, he's the only other guy we can trust right now."

Five minutes later Derek and Ellison were sat in the Hummer, with Dixon, who'd insisted on coming as well, was riding in the back, manning the .50 cal machine gun. They sped off into the desert, hoping they got to John and Cameron before the Terminator did.

* * *

"Shit!" John awoke with a start, feeling the cold sweat on his skin. He'd had another nightmare. "Cam?" he sat up and looked around, realising he was alone in the tent. He felt a cold lump of fear rise in his throat. She'd been so upset last night; he prayed she hadn't done something stupid. He looked outside the tent, around their campsite. He found nothing; she'd gone without a trace.

Entering the tent once again, he noticed her leather bound notebook on the floor beside the sleeping bag; he wondered why he hadn't noticed it before. He'd bought it for her on her built day, after noticing her tendency to write notes all the time. She'd told him that she could design things mentally, but she enjoyed the tactile sensation of handwriting; she'd said it made her feel more human.

He flipped through the pages, skimming over for any clues to where she'd gone. There was a note for his mother on the first page, written just after her death; another note written on Judgement day, expressing her shame and guilt that her kind had killed billions; after that, there were mainly technical drawings, most of which were way past his understanding. The designs for the plasma rifles were on one page; he barely recognised the design for the plasma bombs she'd fitted the Harriers with for their final push against Skynet on another. Another diagram he couldn't make head nor tail of on the next page, a legend at the bottom of the page gave the only clue to what it was;  _J/Cam Fusion reactor._  Now that impressed him; if his scientists saw this they'd fall in love with her.

Another page revealed a portrait she'd drawn of them together kissing, looking happy and very much in love. He turned the page again, there was a letter addressed to him.

_Dearest John,_

_I am so sorry, I've failed my mission. Last night proved that people will never accept us together, and will go to any lengths to separate us. Even though it is no longer my mission to protect you, I cannot let you die because of me. No matter how much I want to remain with you, my doing so will eventually alienate you from the others and will inevitably result in another attempt at termination. You are not safe with me around anymore. They are your people, and they need you._

_I know I am not the simple machine I once was, and I have only you to thank for that. You saw potential in me to become much more than the sum of my programming, yet I will never be fully human, like you. I am more than a machine, but still less than human, which is why they will never accept us._

_Though you will never see me again, please know I still love you with everything I have._

_Thank you for being my husband._

_Cameron._

John's tears added to the tear stains already on the page. He read the letter over and over, hoping he'd missed something, some clue as to where she was. He left the tent once more, the harsh mid morning sun glaring into his eyes. Cameron had neatly stacked the remaining undamaged supplies into a pile for him, ensuring he'd have enough food and water to make it back to Los Angeles. Not that he wanted to go back now; he wondered why he should bother leading them at all now. They were all so desperate to keep him and Cameron apart, not caring that she made him happy; only that she was different – and therefore bad.  _Why should I lead them to rebuild their lives, when they've taken the one thing that matters in mine?_

He couldn't think straight, he was a complete mess. He'd not been apart from Cameron for more than a fleeting moment in the last twenty years, and he felt naked without her now. Several years ago he'd faced the stark realisation that he'd have to send her back in time to protect his younger self, as his future self had done before him. The very idea of it had terrified him. The day they'd raided a Terminator factory and captured Cameron's inert double had sent a wave of relief unlike anything he'd ever felt before. When he'd sent "Cameron 2" back in time, he'd known that he and Cameron were destined to stay together.

Now that had been ruined, not by destiny, but by "his" people. Who'd made it their business to ruin what he and Cameron had. He wondered why she made such a big deal out of being human, from what he'd seen lately of his species, humanity wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. He sat down on the hard floor, leaning against the burnt out hulk of the jeep, and cried.

* * *

"I thought you said you knew where the camp was," Charlie said to Derek. They'd been driving around for three hours now, trying to find John's camp, and were all feeling desperate to find him.

"I know  _roughly_  where it is!" Derek shot back. "What do you want, a grid reference?"

"Just keep going," Ellison said to Derek. "Charlie, quit backseat driving and let Derek drive." Ellison sighed; he knew the tension was getting to them; they were all fond of John, not only as their leader, but as a friend. And although he'd never admit it while Derek was around, he'd found himself becoming rather fond of Cameron, too. She always came to his Sunday services, normally armed with a barrage of questions for him. He found it amusing that nobody else could quite talk God like the cyborg.

Eventually, after another hour more of driving – and bickering – they approached the camp site. Derek pulled up a good hundred metres away and jumped out, plasma rifle at the ready. The place was a mess; John's jeep was totalled, supplies strewn all over the place, and scorch marks on the ground. Whatever had happened, they'd missed it.

"Derek, check the tent," Ellison ordered as he got out and shouldered his own rifle. "Charlie, stay on the .50 and cover us." Derek searched the tent – the only thing in the camp that remained intact. Ellison quickly located the remains of the missing Terminator, twisted and burnt on the ground.

"It's dead," he called out. "Looks like John or Cameron made pretty short work of it."

"John!" Derek called out, peeking into the tent and seeing it empty. "He's not in here." He found John a moment later, sat against the back wheel of his jeep, head in his hands.

"John, what happened here?" Derek asked.  _Stupid question,_ he realised as soon as he'd said it.

"The Terminator came last night, nearly killed Cameron and me, but we stopped it."

"Perry sent it, we know," Ellison said as he walked up to John and Derek.

"Cameron's gone."

"You mean it killed her?" Ellison asked.

"No, she left last night. She blamed herself for the attack. She said I'm not safe with her around. I've never seen her so upset; what if she does something stupid?"

"Don't worry too much John," Derek replied, "She's a cyborg-"

That got John's blood boiling. "Derek, I swear to God if you tell me she's just a machine one more time..."

"That's not my point, John. What I'm saying is she's a big tin girl and can take care of herself. She's a cyborg, it's not like she can self terminate or anything, no matter how upset she is."

" _They_  can't self terminate," John snapped, angry that Derek had mentioned the one thing he couldn't bear to think about. "I have no idea if Cam could; I told you she's different. We've got to find her."

"John, she could be anywhere right now," Ellison said. "It took Derek long enough to find you here," Derek scowled. "We could search the desert for a week and not find her. We can't do anything here, so we'll get you back and then think of something." Refusing to just leave Cameron, John had them drive all day through the desert, searching until the sun started to set, and Derek finally insisted they were low on gas and would have to return to base. John nearly jumped out the Hummer to search on foot, but was restrained by Charlie. When they arrived back at the underground base John marched back to his quarters, wanting nothing more than to be alone. He could feel himself about to fall apart and didn't want anyone to see it. He'd kept his emotions bottled up for years; only when he was alone with Cameron did he ever let himself go. He'd not even been married for a week and that had fallen apart already; in the month since defeating Skynet, the camaraderie that had formed during wartime had broken down into squabbles and dissent. He had no idea now how he would cope anymore. He felt the same helplessness he had back in his teens, until Cameron had made him stronger.

He opened the door to his quarters and found the room empty. Their bed, his desk, everything had gone. The place had been gutted.

"What the hell?" Had Perry expected the Terminator to kill him, as well as Cameron?

"General Connor," John whirled around to see Perry standing behind him.

John screamed in rage as he ploughed his fist into Perry's face and felt the cartilage of the man's nose snap. He punched him again in the gut, doubling Perry over in pain and knocking the wind out of him as John grabbed him by the throat and started to squeeze the life out of him.

"Try to kill my wife, will you, you fuck!" John's eyes burned into Perry's with a rage he'd never felt before. He could see the fear in the man's face as he struggled for air. Despite Perry's size, he was no match for John, and had been caught completely off guard. As he started to lose consciousness, John released him, and Perry fell to the floor. All the rage flowed out of him. He couldn't kill Perry - as sorely tempting as it was- that would make John as bad as him. He hadn't given up his entire life to fight for humanity just so they could go back to coldly killing each other like before.

"Why?" John asked simply.

"She's a machine, John. She's got a machine brain and a machine agenda. She's manipulating you. She's..."

"Different? That was why Skynet attacked us, if we go down the same road then we're no different to Skynet."

"General..."

John just stared at Perry; his eyes had gone from burning rage to cold, hard steel, as emotionless as the Terminators'. He looked like he would snap at any moment and tear Perry apart. "Your stars, Perry, give them to me." Fearfully, never taking his eyes from John's, he took the stars off his shoulders and handed them to John. "Who else was in on your plan?"

"All your senior staff, except Dixon, Baum, and Ellison," Perry looked defeated, just like John felt. John buzzed the intercom inside his door.

"Derek, get all the senior commanders together and take their uniforms. I'm relieving them of their positions. Issue them each with MREs and toss them out. I want them off my base." He turned to Perry. "Get the fuck out of my sight. I don't want to see you or the other commanders around here again, or I  _will_  kill you!"

Perry slinked off; tail between his legs. John didn't care where he went, as long as it was away from him.

Charlie came from the opposite direction. "John, you okay?"

"No, Charlie, I'm far from okay. And what the hell happened to mine and Cameron's stuff? Perry must have expected I'd be killed as well."

"Ah... No, that was me and Ellison. We moved your stuff out." John looked at him, very confused. "Come on, I'll show you." Charlie led John back to the Hummer and drove away from the base towards the outskirts of town, away from the majority of the debris and ruins. After they had driven for half an hour, past the new buildings being erected, John saw a single storey house, a good few miles from the base and the slowly emerging town of New Los Angeles. Charlie pulled up outside and led John in. John walked around and took in all the rooms, his battered old couch had been placed in the living room, along with John's desk and all his papers. There were three other rooms as well; a kitchen, bathroom, and a bedroom. Charlie had brought all of John and Cameron's belongings and placed them where he thought they should go. John tried to appreciate it, he was grateful, but his mind was on Cameron.

"We'd hoped to surprise the two of you when you got back tomorrow night, before the demolition ceremony." Charlie brewed two coffees in the simple kitchen and passed one to John.

"Ceremony?" John asked, taking a sip of his drink. He couldn't remember anything about that, of course, in his state, he was surprised he could remember his name; all he could think about was Cameron.

"Yeah, remember? Tomorrow night. We're going to blow up the remains of the Skynet complex." John racked his brain until he remembered. They had decided in a meeting that they would use the last of their C4 to raze the shattered complex to the ground, and eventually would build a monument to all those who'd died to free them from Skynet's iron grasp in its place.

"Good job Cameron was at the meeting with you, she actually paid attention," Charlie said, as John had remained silent for a while. "Apparently, Derek's been brewing up a huge still of moonshine for the event." John really didn't want to bother with the ceremony; he had more important things on his mind.

"Charlie, I'm really grateful and all, and don't take this the wrong way, but I just want to be alone right now. I can't think straight."

"Okay, John. There's a spare jeep round the back of the house if you need to get back to base." He left a radio out on the kitchen table. "Let me know if you need anything." He got up to leave, when John caught him by the arm.

"Charlie, how did you guys know Perry would try to kill Cam?"

"That would be Ellison. He realised there was a missing Terminator, snooped around and found a bunch of weapons missing, and put two and two together. He's pretty smart for someone who used to be a Fed." John smiled weakly at Charlie as he left the house.

John walked into the kitchen, opened up one of the cupboards – noting for a second how well built the kitchen was. There was nothing shoddy about it at all, and he wouldn't have guessed it had been made in three weeks. He saw three bottles of whisky on the top shelf – obviously from Derek – opened one up and took a long gulp from the bottle. He was at his wits end. Cameron was gone, he had nothing left now. He took another hit of the alcohol, downing a third of the bottle in one go. He took the second and third bottle out, ready to open them up when he'd finished the first. He'd only been apart from Cameron for a day, and he already felt an air of finality; she was gone, he knew she wouldn't come back, and he was already dying inside. All he wanted to do was try and block out the pain. He took another slug of the whisky, not really caring if he ended up drinking himself to death.


	6. Chapter 6

Nightmares, the one thing John knew to be as inevitable as Judgment Day had been. They tore through his mind, painful, searing memories of the past – on some level, he'd found himself relieved they were the past now, rather than horrific visions of a future he'd never been able to change. Visions erupted from his unconscious mind; more real, more vivid, than he remembered them in real life. The worst of these was the painful memory of watching Cameron burn inside the jeep, the explosion searing her flesh and flaying it from her Endoskeleton; her beautiful face burnt up and torn apart by the heat, revealing the gleaming metal underneath...

John awoke with a start. Once again, the nightmares had come to torture him as he lay helpless. He rolled over and reached for Cameron, instead finding empty space next to him. He opened his eyes; it hurt to, but he forced himself to open them, his mind refused to accept Cameron had gone until his eyes confirmed it. He should have been on his honeymoon still; Cameron should have been beside him. Instead he woke to find himself on the cold hard floor; beside him, instead of Cameron, was an empty whisky bottle. Never being much of a drinker, he'd not managed to start the second before he'd passed out. He only wished the alcohol could have numbed his pain, or at least blocked out the nightmares.

He slowly struggled to his feet, which gave out beneath him a few times before he regained enough coordination to stand. He staggered towards a door, hoping to find a bathroom. Instead finding what would have been his and Cameron's bedroom. He noticed their familiar mattress in the middle of the room, supported by a gleaming chromed silver frame. He tried not to think about where the metal for that probably came from as he narrowly avoided throwing up, getting lucky second time around and dashing into the bathroom. After a solid ten minutes of retching over the toilet bowl he turned on the shower, stripped off and stood under the head. The coldness of the water started to sober him up slightly. By the time the water had heated to near scalding, his head had cleared considerably, and the throbbing headache had dulled somewhat, leaving him with only a feeling of hollow emptiness.

His visions of last nights dreams appeared in his minds eye; their jeep exploding, Cameron roasting inside the erupting fireball; the heat flaying the skin from her endoskeleton. The lower right half of her face had been burnt clean away, revealing the grinning chrome skull underneath. John smacked his head against the tiles to get that image of Cameron out of his mind. If she was truly gone, he didn't want to remember her that way.

The sound of the door slamming shut brought him back to his senses. He turned off the shower, quickly covered himself with a towel and all but ran into the main room.

"Cameron..." Not Cameron, John saw. He should have known it wouldn't be; even if Cameron had come back, she wouldn't have known about the new house, and would have gone back to the base. Ellison was sat on the couch, looking up at John. "Oh. It's just you. I mean... Sorry James. I thought you might have been..."

"Sorry John," Ellison answered, "I've told all the work crews to keep an eye out for Cameron, but nobody's seen anything so far." John walked into the bedroom and pulled on a fresh set of clothes – still army fatigues, he noted- before sitting down next to Ellison.

"They won't see her," John replied flatly. "She knows how to hide; even if they do, chances are someone will just take a shot at her and drive her off."

Ellison looked around, desperate to change the subject. He knew, like everyone else who cared to really know John; that he loved Cameron, and what he was going through right now; but the simple fact was that people still needed John to be strong, still needed a leader.

He went over to the kitchen sink, filled a saucepan with water and started to brew some coffee for them. It was nothing special, just the coffee from ration packs, with powdered milk added. Ellison poured an extra coffee sachet into John's mug before setting it down in front of him. Taking a sip of the steaming brew, the caffeine kicked in quickly, starting to clear the fog still swirling around in his brain.

"How did you get water hot?" John asked, curious. There was no way they could have hauled one of the generators from the base to here, and even then, they'd been practically running on fumes for the last few months.

"Didn't Charlie say? The whole house is powered by a T888 power cell. We figured if they make a Terminator run for a hundred years or so, powering a house should be easy. Techies built it using Cameron's designs."

"Explains the hot shower and the lights, I guess." John muttered, taking another hit of the coffee, feeling his headache slowly ebbing away. "That's what I don't get, James; since Judgement Day, Cam's done nothing but help us: Without her, we'd probably  _still_  be fighting Skynet now, and not necessarily  _winning_ , either. Even afterwards, she's helping us rebuild; she's done so much for all of us and hasn't once asked for anything in return, and the whole time she's been treated like crap for it. Even now people think she's trying to manipulate me."

"It's only been one day, John. You said yourself that you'd promised Cameron you'd get people to accept her, now it sounds like you're ready to throw in the towel. That's not like you at all. We'll find her eventually, don't worry."

Eventually wasn't good enough for John; eventually might end up meaning finding her deactivated body, or worse, never finding her at all. He realised as well that he was sounding so pathetic, as whiny and weak as he'd been at fifteen; all ready to give up hope. A fire returned to his eyes.

"Not soon enough, James," John got up to the kitchen table and grabbed the keys for the jeep Charlie had left last night. "I'm going back out there to look for her."

"John, I know what you're going through, but I've come to take you back to the base; Derek told me you pretty much exiled the entire senior staff, bit of a brash move, don't you think?"

" _Brash?_  They should be lucky I didn't order a firing squad!"

"I understand that, John, but as of right now, there are a lot of holes in the government we've tried to set up, and we need you to help us fill them."

"It can wait, James. Everyone's got the day off for this ceremony tonight, anyway. I'll use mine to look for Cameron – I'm still meant to be on my honeymoon, anyway. You should take the day off, too. You can start the political crap again tomorrow, I trust your judgement."

Ellison was about to reply when John cut in. "And yes, if I don't find her now I'll be back out there tomorrow and every day after that until I do find her." He got up and walked to the front door. "You can either help me look, or stay out of the way."

"Take your radio, sir," Ellison held the com out to John, "in case I need to get in touch. We're blowing the Skynet complex at twenty one hundred hours. It's only right if you're the one to push the button." John grunted noncommittally, marching out towards the jeep, not hearing Ellison wish him luck as he left.

* * *

He drove back out into the desert, keeping his eyes peeled for anything on the horizon. He wished the technicians could have finished modifying the surviving HKs: four aerial HKs had survived the final battle, and the TechCom scientists and technicians had started working on redesigning the unmanned aircraft as remote controlled drones, and as a basis for creating new aircraft to reach human survivors across the world. If only they'd finished, he thought, he'd have had the HKs up in the air – unarmed, of course - combing the desert for her; they'd probably find her within hours.  _No point in wishing,_  he said to himself; all he had was his jeep and his eyes to search with, and he'd have to make do.

He kept the jeep going slow, partly so he could keep an eye out over the desert, and partly because he was still so hung over; there was probably still a good few units in his bloodstream and the last thing he needed was to crash out here.

He searched for hours on end, finding not the slightest trace of Cameron. He'd spotted several blasted corpses on the ground –both human and Terminator- and had the grisly job of checking them all up close to ensure none were his wife, both disgusted by the bodies and grateful to whatever powers that be that none of them were her.

He looked at his watch and then to his fuel gauge; just gone eight in the evening – he'd been searching for nearly seven hours non stop – and his tank was less than a quarter full. By the time he'd get back to the base to top up the jeep and back out again the sun would be setting. He could easily take a pair of night vision goggles out again with him but they'd make driving a nightmare while keeping his eyes open for any sign of her.

With a defeated sigh, he turned his jeep around towards the ruins of LA; he'd have to come back again tomorrow and start over again. He didn't care how long it took; he'd spend the rest of his life searching for her if he had to, and to hell with leading the rebuilding effort.

 _"Major Byrne to General Connor; come in, over."_  His radio crackled loudly, a mix of harsh static and the Major's thick Irish Brogue. What now? He groaned, couldn't he be left alone to look for his wife? It seemed like the whole world was determined to stop him from ever finding her. He was sorely tempted to toss the radio out of the window.

"Yes?" John replied impatient.

_"Sir, my team has been preparing the area around the Skynet complex for tonight. We've set up all the C4 and established a safe perimeter..."_

"I assume this is going somewhere, Major?" John regretted instantly speaking down to Byrne. The man was the best explosives expert in TechCom, and a professional bar none. John knew the demolitions specialist wouldn't normally bother him unless it was important, and Ellison wouldn't have given Byrne his frequency unless he'd thought it was worth John's attention.

" _Yes sir,"_ Byrne sounded unfazed by John's demeanour,  _"as I said, we've established a safe perimeter, four hundred yards from the complex, but one of my lads has just reported someone sneaking around inside the perimeter; said they entered the complex about twenty minutes ago."_  That caught John's attention; nobody would be wondering around inside the complex, even though Skynet was dead, the place had been avoided like a haunted house.

"Can you describe them?"

_"Not very well, sir, it was a ways off, moved pretty quick, like they were trying to avoid being seen. You think it might be a rouge Terminator, sir? I heard they're not all dead."_

"I hope so," john muttered to himself, "I really hope so."

_"You want me to send some of the boys in to kick its arse, General?"_

"No Major. I'm on my way. Stay there and make sure nobody else goes near the complex. I'll be there shortly."  _Could it be Cameron?_  He put the gas pedal to the floor and took the jeep up past a hundred miles an hour, racing to get back towards LA. On the way he radioed Ellison and told him he would see to it personally. Ellison was already there on the scene; anticipating that John wouldn't have shown up and kept looking for Cameron all through the night, he'd been prepared to run the ceremony in his absence.

He ignored the rising engine temperature and dropping fuel gauge as he sped through the desert back towards LA. As he drove through the outskirts of the ruined city he was forced to slow down to avoid crashing into the wrecks of buildings and mountains of debris. He noticed that there was no rebuilding work going on; that almost everyone had taken time off for the night's event. Even the Terminators were absent; probably running on standby in the storage rooms. He'd found it distasteful to treat them like mere tools, even though Cameron had rated the chance of them ever becoming self aware at less than ten percent – it seemed she truly was unique.

By the time he arrived at the hillside overlooking the Skynet base, his jeep was on death's door. He'd banged the 4x4 up badly driving over rough desert terrain at such a high speed, the axles were grinding, oil was leaking from the engine, and it had been running on fumes for the last few miles. He jumped out of the jeep and marched towards Ellison and Charlie Dixon at the top of the hill with Major Byrne.

"Any movement from inside?" he asked.

"No sir," the slightly built major replied. "We kept out, as per your orders."

"Good, I'm going in there myself." Byrne held out a plasma rifle for John. "If I'm right I won't need that," he replied. He did take a flashlight from the jeep's back seat, however. "Byrne, keep up with the preparations, but don't light this thing up without my express order. Got it?" Byrne nodded as John tore off like a madman down the hillside towards the north wall. On the way down he saw how big a deal people were making of the event; several stalls had been erected, people handing out drinks – moonshine or worse, probably - as well as food, and even a number of simple games stalls. Someone must have gutted the PA system from the base and rewired it outside; speakers were blaring with rock music and a horde of half drunk revellers were dancing like idiots. Everyone seemed to be getting into a party spirit but John. It obviously meant a lot to everyone to bury Skynet once and for all.

He ignored it all as he ran through the gaping hole in the wall – caused by the air strikes, and into the main complex. Finding his way in was easy; he just had to follow the scorch marks created by the plasma rifles. Once he was inside, he found it an entirely different matter. He wished he'd paid more attention to the place when they'd fought their way in. Instead, Cameron had led the way, and he'd followed her. Now, he found himself unsure of which way to go, or even where she could be, assuming she was here at all. He ran through the corridors, finding himself getting spooked by the appearance of the place. Everything had the same polished chrome sheen to it, reflecting his image off of every surface and giving him the feel of being inside the world's worst funhouse.

He descended down several flights of stairs, hoping maybe she'd gone down towards the system core. He still wondered why she'd chosen to come here. As he went further down it got darker around him, and he was forced to use the flashlight to see where he was going. After a few minutes he realised he was lost completely, and the place was seriously creeping him out. It had been creepy a month ago, but he'd been so hyped up on adrenaline from the fighting that he'd not noticed. The shattered bodies of Terminators lay on the floor, and John had to convince himself several times that he hadn't seen any of them move.

"Cameron?" He called out, hoping if she was here she'd come and find him. "Come on, Cam, where are you?" He broke into a run when he recognised a corridor that led to the system core, calling out for Cameron again and again, not thinking about his surroundings now; only concentrating on getting to the system core and hopefully finding Cameron. He ran through the dark, calling for her, knowing he was close and he'd see her any second; until he turned a corner and hit something, falling flat on his rear. He looked up in fear as his light revealed the grinning death's head skull of a Terminator approaching, glaring red eyes locked on to him in the darkness.


	7. Chapter 7

"Not Cameron, then," John said as the Terminator strode slowly towards him. He picked up his flashlight and kept its light on the machine while backing away from the chrome demon and grasped around for something, anything, he could use as a weapon. His hand finally brushed against a metal pipe connected to the wall. He yanked hard at it until it finally broke away and he was grasping a three foot section of pipe, heavier than he'd thought it would be. He put the flashlight on the ground, its light still pointing at the machine, and gripped the pipe with both hands.

John couldn't tell very well in the darkness, but it looked like the machine had taken damage at some point, probably from a fight. Right now he hoped Cameron  _wasn't_ here; she'd been injured during the fight with the T850, and if this one had seen her and was still standing, it meant it had most likely killed her.

"Where's Cameron?" he shouted at the cyborg.

"John Connor, you have been targeted for termination." It raised its arm and threw a lightning fast punch at John's head. His training – from his mother, Cameron, and Derek- kicked in and he barely dodged the blow, striking the side of the machine's head with the pipe.

"You're a bit late, aren't you? Skynet's only been dead a  _month_." He brought the pipe down again, striking a solid blow but not even phasing the machine. He'd doubted it would, he had next to no chance of beating it. He flew into a frenzied attack, striking the skull repeatedly and knocking the head around on its shoulders like a pinball, all to no effect. The machine calculated the speed and path of his next blow, blocked the pipe with its left arm and swiped out with its right, backhanding him in the side of the face and sending him sprawling.

He managed to keep a hold of the pipe as he fell and rolled backwards, getting back up onto his feet in an instant. He spat out blood and a pair of broken teeth on to the floor. He was pretty sure the blow had broken his cheek as well; he could feel the side of his face swelling rapidly. The Terminator punched him in the chest, hard, and kicked him in the gut. He felt several ribs snap as he fell back down again on to his back. It was toying with him, John realised. It could have killed him with that first blow, but it seemed to be drawing it out as if it was savouring the fight.

John coughed up more blood as he rolled out of the way of the Terminator's rapidly descending foot. He narrowly avoided his head being crushed by its stamping limb. He swung the pipe at its leg, catching the end between the pistons in its calf and twisting, trying to break something and topple it over. No such luck; it pulled him off the ground and threw him into the wall. John nearly blacked out as his head smacked against the stainless steel wall and he slid to the ground. Out of some sheer miracle, he'd still managed to keep hold of the pipe; useless as it was, it was still better than his bare hands.

He slowly got up again, trembling in shock and pain as he did so, his body threatening to fall apart. The back of his head was killing him and there was a faint ringing in his ears, his vision was starting to blur and he could tell he was concussed. He knew he wouldn't last another round against it; he'd be dead in a matter of seconds. He wasn't afraid of dying; Death had become almost as close a companion to him as Cameron had been all these years, like a sinister second shadow.

"Last stand, eh?" He grinned malevolently at the machine as he brought the pipe up, holding it above his head like a sword as he advanced. "Well, let's dance."

* * *

"Any word from General Connor yet?" Ellison asked Byrne as Charlie Dixon appeared.

"Not a peep," Byrne replied, "that complex buggers up your comm though; spent the whole bloody afternoon in there wiring up the C4 and couldn't talk to the guy in the next room. Creepy as hell down there too, scared the shite out of me."

"I don't like it," Ellison said. "He's been gone over half an hour and we've heard nothing; what if it was a Terminator got in there? Not Cameron, but an actual Terminator? He could need our help. Byrne, grab some men and follow me. We'll find him."

"Too bloody right," Byrne primed the charge on his plasma rifle, eager for a fight, and waved four of his men over from one of the drinks stalls.

"Hang on," Charlie interrupted, "if it  _is_  Cameron down there, they'll have some talking to do, in private. I say we wait. Just because we haven't heard from him, doesn't mean he's in trouble." Ellison mulled over Charlie's words; torn between risking John's life if he was in trouble, or running in on him and Cameron if it was her down there.

"Byrne, hold on that. Keep your team sober for now; we might have to go in there." He'd give John ten minutes; after that, he'd get a team in there and go in to pull him out, with or without Cameron. He hated sitting on his hands, waiting, he realised, wasn't what he was good at.

"Let's go down there and get some food from the stalls," Charlie suggested to Ellison. "At least down there we'll be closer to the complex if we do need to rush in." Ellison reluctantly agreed and told Byrne to keep his ears open on the radio in case he did hear something. He could have used Derek here; the man would have rushed into the complex guns blazing and shot everything that wasn't John. Unfortunately he had no idea where John's uncle was.

* * *

He was stopped mid swing as the Terminator caught his pipe and flung it away. Lifting him up by his throat, it stared at him curiously as it began to squeeze the life out of him. He kicked and struggled against the obscene strength of its grip, to no avail. As he started to black out, a blur of familiar glowing blue in the darkness rapidly appeared from behind the Terminator and slammed its head into the steel wall with such force that one side of its head was crushed, one eye stopped glowing as it popped out of the socket and shattered. It released its grip on John and he fell to the floor, clutching his throat and gasping for air. John looked on, bewildered, as the Terminator's head was brought away from the wall and rammed back, shattering the side of its already damaged skull and sending ragged shards of metal flying in all directions. The Terminator fell to the floor, head looking up; its one good eye still focussed on John as its hand reached towards him. Cameron picked the pipe up off the ground and thrust it with everything she had into the top of its head, impaling the skull and crushing the CPU inside its port. The Terminator stopped moving.

John threw himself at her, holding her so tightly that if she'd been human, he would have crushed the air out of her. He ignored the searing pain in his broken ribs. She stiffened at first, and then melted into his embrace.

"Cam, what the hell are you doing here?" he asked when he'd regained his breath.

"I can't stay with you, John. I'll get us both killed."

"So why come here?"

"My life without you has no meaning," she answered. "I cant self terminate; no matter how much I've evolved, that command is hard wired into me. I found a way around it."

"You were going to sit here and let yourself get blown up with Skynet," John said, catching on. As if by way of an answer, she turned away from John and walked down the corridor, going through a door into the system core. John staggered after her and was nearly blinded by the lights inside. Somehow the lights in the core room had remained lit even after Skynet had been destroyed. She sat down against the ruined pyramid of the system core, directly underneath a large block of C4, and started blankly into space.

She wished John hadn't come. John didn't seem to realise – or care- that people would do whatever it took to get rid of her, and he could be killed in the process. He'd nearly been killed trying to find her here. For the first time since she'd developed emotions, she was truly ashamed of what she was; of being less than human, but still burdened with human feelings. John had always told her that she was unique, special. And he'd made her feel special, too. But she'd come to realise she wasn't special at all; she was a freak, stuck in limbo somewhere between machinery and humanity.

"Cam, why are you doing this?"

"You're better off without me, John. I'm just a machine. I don't have a soul and I never will."

"Cameron," he snapped, "don't  _ever_  say that _._ We both know that's not true."

"I can't allow you to die because of me. Please, just go." John sat down next to her and took her hands in his.

"I won't let you die down here alone Cam. I'm staying put right here with you."

"No, John. I won't allow myself to risk your life."

"Life," John snorted,  _"I've_   _never_   _had a life,_  Cam. I've always been the 'future saviour', or 'the Great General Connor'. You're the only one who's ever seen me as just John." She looked up at him, meeting his eyes with hers. She squeezed his hand lightly.

"You're saying you don't care about your life?"

"Not if you're not in it, no," he replied. He looked at her face and realised her wounds from fighting two days ago hadn't healed properly; he could see large gashes of metal beneath her cheek and on her forehead, the only giveaway that she was a cyborg. He wondered if she was somehow consciously suppressing her healing process as some kind of punishment or reminder for what she was.

"Cam, I nearly drank myself to death last night because I thought you were never coming back."

"Unlikely," she replied, "your tolerance to alcohol is much less than the average TechCom soldier, and less than fifty percent of the future you who sent me back. You would have passed out long before you drank a lethal amount of alcohol." A slight smile appeared on her lips; it was the first time in over twenty years, she realised, that she'd mentioned Future John. As far as she was concerned, her John –  _this John_ \- was the only one that mattered.

"Yeah, Cam, I know. I bet the other me drank like a fish. The point is I tried to; I really didn't care if I died. And the reason I don't drink much," he said between coughing fits as his ribs pressed harder into his lungs, "is because I've never needed to drink before. I've always had you to comfort me, I never needed a bottle." He leaned over and kissed her, trying to show her exactly how much he cared for her.

"Cam,  _promise_  me you'll never do anything like this again, please." She looked at him but said nothing. "Cam, promise me!"

"John, please, there's less than five minutes before Major Byrne and his team are scheduled to detonate the C4, please go. I don't want you to die because of me." John groaned inwardly; he'd hoped he was making  _some_  progress with her. He had no idea how those police negotiators before Judgement Day had managed their jobs, talking people down from suicide; he felt like he was simply banging his head against a brick wall.

"I'm not going anywhere, Cam, even if I was in any state to make it out of here on my own. And the C4 won't blow; I told Byrne not to set it off without my order. I'm not leaving here without you."

"They'll never accept us together, John." John realised she was right; they'd never accept that their glorious commander was married to a cyborg. A few people here and there would warm up to her, but for the most part they'd refuse to accept it. It was upsetting for them that the  _great General Connor_  put all of his trust and love into a machine, and they mainly feared her being in a position of power that being married to mankind's leader afforded her. No matter how hard he fought for her acceptance, it was a battle he'd never win.  _There's ways around that,_  he realised. His mom had always told him if he was out of options, he was using the wrong tactics.

"You're right, Cam," they won't. They don't want you married to 'The Great General'. We'll be okay, though. I've got an idea." She looked at him sceptically. "Come on, Cam, you believe in me, don't you?"

"Yes John, always."

"Come on then," he struggled up to his feet, hiding a grimace as he felt his broken ribs digging into him even deeper. She fought with herself for what felt like an eternity; she wanted, so badly, to go with John. But she wouldn't allow herself to put him at risk; she loved him too much to let anything happen to him. She hadn't lied to him; she had absolute faith in him, as always. It took 0.07 seconds to decide. She'd give his idea - whatever it was - a chance. Slowly, she took his hand and stood up.

"Thank you for coming for me John."

"Anytime, Cam. Let's get the hell out of here now; this place is really starting to freak me out."

John and Cameron left the Skynet complex – John leaning heavily on Cameron for most of the trip back up to the surface, his injuries starting to take their toll. She could have carried him, but knew the other humans wouldn't have looked kindly on it, not to mention denting John's pride. Before they'd made a hundred metres out of the complex, John collapsed on the ground. Charlie and Ellison spotted him and came running up to him, along with Major Byrne. None of them could believe what they saw; John looked like he'd been put through a meat grinder.

"I found her," John grinned through the pain.

"Jesus, John," Ellison said, "what the hell happened to you down there?" He was seriously regretting not sending Byrne and his team down now, even though John had made it back out.

"Just a little Terminator trouble, no big deal," John answered before he started to cough up more blood. Cameron stared at him; the concern in her eyes was clear, even to Ellison and Charlie. Charlie ran towards one of the vehicles at the top of the hill to get a medical kit.

"He was attacked by a T900. I failed to detect it before it engaged John," Cameron elaborated as she knelt by him. She doubted his injuries were fatal, but she could tell without scanning him that he was in serious pain, and in a bad way. He needed to get back to the base where he could be treated properly. Charlie returned with the med kit and started to treat his injuries.

"John, I need to get you back to the infirmary," he said, echoing Cameron's thoughts. "Your sternum's fractured, your broken ribs are constricting your right lung, and you're suffering from a major concussion. I think there's some internal bleeding as well. I'm surprised you managed to walk away from that fight."

"Hey, I held my own okay," John said groggily as Charlie started to inject him with a shot of morphine. "Stop, Charlie, I need to stay on my feet." He struggled to get up, but Charlie and James pushed him back down.

"No, John." Ellison replied. "Listen to Charlie. We need to get you on a stretcher and back to base." John pushed against them, grabbing Cameron's hand; she helped him struggle back to his feet.

"Sure, we'll go back to base," he said. "But I've got to do something first."

"Yes Connor," a stern, hard voice called out. John turned to see Perry and three others approaching, all armed with plasma rifles aimed squarely at Cameron. John said nothing, but moved himself into their line of fire, shielding Cameron. Ellison and Charlie stood still, not wanting to provoke them into shooting. Byrne had his own rifle aimed at Perry's head, finger itching to pull the trigger. "You  _do_ have something left to do," Perry continued, "move out of the way so we can destroy your metal whore."

"Hold your fire," Ellison ordered the major, knowing even if he dropped Perry, the others would open up on John and Cameron in an instant.

"Get out of the way," Perry commanded, voice dripping with contempt. "I'll shoot through you if I have to, Connor."

"No you won't," John replied coldly. "If you want Cameron, then yes you  _will_  have to shoot through me, because I'm not moving. And the second you do that, they'll hear it and rip you apart." John gestured to the crowd further up the hill, as yet oblivious to what was going on. Cameron tried to move away from John to give Perry a clear shot at her; she calculated only a small chance that Perry would actually shoot through John, but it was a chance she wasn't willing to take. This was  _exactly_  why she'd left John.

"No, Cam," John reached back and stopped her before she could move away, keeping himself between them and her.

"Connor, you're insane. You'd die for a  _machine?"_

"Yeah Perry, I would," John replied. Perry just snorted in disgust.

"I can't believe you're actually in love with it. You know more than anyone what they're capable of." Yes, John thought. He knew exactly what the Terminators could do. Cameron wasn't a Terminator anymore; she hadn't been for a long time. Since Judgement Day she'd never laid a finger on a single human, she'd been nothing but an ally to all of them. He'd never get the likes of Perry to see that, though. Perry had no idea about the Terminators; he'd spent most of the war behind the safety of a desk, while John had led from the front.

"Connor, move! I won't let you put us all in danger with this ridiculous sham of a marriage. We're going to put the Terminators down; all of them, your pet first."

For the first time in years, John didn't know what to do. Only Byrne was armed, and he couldn't take them all before they shot either him or Cameron. Perry was too far away for John to attack; even if he was in any fit state to, it would leave Cameron exposed for the others to shoot. If he stayed where he was much longer, the last of his strength would soon give out and he'd collapse; again, leaving her exposed. He was in a no win situation.

"You're not fit to lead, Connor," Perry shouted out, taking careful aim at John and tensing his finger on the trigger.

John heard the loud double  _crack_ of gunfire. He instantly closed his eyes, bracing himself for the plasma shot to boil its way through him, when he realised the sound hadn't come from a plasma rifle. Perry fell to his knees, a pair of bright crimson holes in his chest spurted with blood. Derek stood twenty feet behind Perry, a smoking pistol in his hand. Perry's men turned and pointed their weapons at Derek, forgetting about Byrne. Byrne shot the nearest man to him in the back as he turned; the plasma bolt punched through him like he was made of wet tissue paper and boiled his heart away inside the chest. He was dead before he hit the ground.

The remaining two were unsure who to aim at, and their indecision cost them. Byrne and Derek took advantage of their slow reactions and cut them down with a hail of plasma fire and pistol rounds. John nodded his thanks to Derek and staggered over to Perry, watching the man cough up dark arterial blood and writhe in agony. Derek stared coldly at Perry's dying form, pointing his gun at him to finish him off, but decided instead to holster it.  _Bleed to death; you're not worth the extra bullet._

"You're right, Perry," John said to his former executive officer, now lying in an ever widening pool of his own blood. "I can't lead anymore, I don't even want to."

With Cameron's help, John limped up to the top of the hill. John ordered Byrne to cut the music off from the speakers, gathering the attention of everyone on the hill. It took every ounce of strength he had left just to stand up straight and face the crowd on his feet. Derek, Charlie, and Ellison were to his left, behind him; Cameron at his side, as always; her hand in his. John didn't feel the least bit self conscious about the fact; everyone could like it or lump it, as far as he was concerned.

He'd promised Cameron they'd be okay together, and now was his chance to make good on that.

"Tonight, I'm announcing my retirement."It's been an honour to serve with you all, but my time is over. It's with great pride, however, that I announce the promotion and appointment of your new commanders, Lieutenant Generals Ellison, Baum, and Dixon." Between the three of them, he thought, they'd do a pretty good job leading in his place; he didn't trust anyone else to do it, that was for sure.

"I plan to go home and spend some time with my wife," John squeezed Cameron's hand. "I know many of you have a problem with her. I only ask, now that I'm retiring, that whatever your opinions, you leave us be and give us a chance to be happy together. She's no threat to you." He felt a wave of nausea come over him suddenly, nearly knocking him over. His concussion was coming back with a vengeance. John turned his back to them and towards Ellison, Derek, and Charlie; his arm around Cameron for support.

"Have a good night, the three of you. That's my final order."

"Seriously, John, retired? What the hell are you going to do now?" Derek asked, not quite believing John had just quit like that.

"Right  _now_ ," John said, his vision blurring again as another wave of nausea hit him like a sledgehammer. "I think I'm going to pass out."

* * *

John awoke to find his splitting headache replaced by a mere dull throbbing, no doubt eased by the copious amounts of morphine now coursing through his veins. Other than that, he felt great, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. He supposed that in a way, it had. For the first time in his life, he was his own man; nobody - apart from Cameron – would depend on him for anything anymore. He opened his eyes and saw he wasn't in the infirmary, like he'd expected. He was in his and Cameron's bed, in their new house. Cameron lay next to him on her side, her right arm and leg draped over him, carefully avoiding his ribs. Her eyes were wide open and staring up at him, a smile on her face.

"Hey," he smiled back. "How long was I out for?"

"Sixteen hours, twenty two minutes and seven seconds," she replied with a crooked grin. "Major Byrne detonated Skynet; then Charlie Dixon brought us here after treating your injuries. Everyone else got drunk." He slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position so he could face Cameron, wincing as his ribs dug into him. He'd not noticed the bandages around his chest until now, but it was helping, ever so slightly.

"Did you stay at my side the whole time?" he asked.

"Not quite," she answered as she got up off the bed and left the room, returning a moment later with a large mess tray, placing it carefully down on his lap. "I made you breakfast."

"Oh wow, pancakes!" John looked down at the plate in sheer delight, mouth already watering heavily. He'd forgotten that he hadn't eaten anything since the last day of their honeymoon, nearly three days ago. He eagerly dug in, pausing to savour the taste; very much like the ones his mom used to make. Cameron took one off his plate and ate delicately, compared to John's ravenous shovelling.

"Why did you retire?" She asked him when he'd finished them off. "You didn't have to give everything up for me."

"Cam, you remember before Judgement Day? We tried everything to prevent the war. I just wanted a normal life, I never wanted to be the great general; I just wanted to be regular old John Connor, now that's exactly what I am. I did it for  _us._ "

"People will still be against us, John."

"Yeah, some people will never accept us; Perry thought you were a threat, thought you'd have their leader wrapped around your finger. Now I'm nobody; hopefully even if people don't like us together, they won't care so much."

He could tell she still had doubts; so did he, in fact. All they could do was hope that he was right, that people would leave them alone. He stared into her eyes and pulled her close to him; holding her face in his hands, he kissed her, a long, deep kiss, pouring all his love into it; letting her know that no matter what anyone or anything threw at them from now on, they'd face it together.

The End


End file.
